Seeing Red
by Dreams of
Summary: I'm seeing red. Nothing but that infacuating, annoying color.


**Seeing Red**

Pairings: Akuroku

Rating: T

Warnings: boy love ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own that which is from the cannon.

Summary: I'm seeing red.

Author's Note: 100 theme challenge: Seeing Red

It's all that's in my vision. I can't see past it or through it mostly. Sometimes when I breathe out deeply enough I can see the ceiling above my bed, but that's only on occasion. The world is red, the darkness of my closed lids is tinted pink and it smells wonderful. I remember the first time that all I could see was the deep red filling my sight now.

I was more than angry, my chest was heaving with guilt, fear and pure rage. He was laughing at me and talking like he _always_ does- as if I'm some sort of child. Or maybe like I'm simply not as mature, intelligent or experienced as him. Alright, maybe he doesn't _always_ talk like that, but damn near close! And I'll have you know that I'm no child. He was not my first and sometimes I tell him he will not be my last. I only say that when I'm angry though.

Oh yes, back to the red. It's the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me apart from him. Everything revolves around him. It's his fault I am blinded by the color anyways. That first time, he kissed me but the red was still there, the fear too but when his lips touched my cheek the guilt faded into black abyss. I never said thank you for that.

When I sigh and relax, I can almost see the window through my haze. It's really humbling to think about it all, the other moments anyways. Those sweet and sour memories of everything to do with the sugar sweet cherry red that stings in my eyes and makes them water. The second time that I remember…

He was in a suit after the funeral. I love when he wears suits. His eyes stand out more against his posh appearance and does he have a set of eyes or what? They're huge, they're perfect and so intricate. Sometimes I stare into them until I see his smirk and feel silly for it. He laughs and pokes fun at me and all I can see is that God forsaken color. I want to drown myself sometimes.

What was my point? Oh yes, the second time, I keep forgetting, he's much too distracting or maybe I have ADHD too. When we left the parlor my eyes were rimmed in that color and his were watered yet his cheeks were dry. I was angry about that. I looked like a fucking I_baby/I_ crying my eyes out and he kept a stiff upper lip. I wanted to hurt him so badly for being stronger than me. He's always a man, a real one. He isn't one of those fake men on the television and he isn't one of those boys you see in real life who pretend to be men. He's always strong. In every way you could imagine, be it intellectually, physically, emotionally or spiritually. He is a convinced individual and sometimes I hate him for it. He is much too stubborn because of that trait.

Back to the point though, I wanted to hurt him when our distraught steps moved towards his beat up Toyota pickup. I could picture the scene back then and I still can… A boy and a man in suits moving to a black chipped, dented, loved pickup truck. That's right, I said boy. I'm not like him, I'm weak and frail and despite only being two years younger I look more like five his junior. He never minds though, none of the stares bother him. His steps slowed when tiny gasps escaped me and instead of facing him I covered my face so he couldn't see the pain streaming down my cheeks in the form of warm water. He pushed my hands away and wiped my face. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him. I resented him so much for not crying when I couldn't hold back. My vision was filled with that annoyingly vibrant color once again.

Maybe I should be easy on myself… My brother had died. He hadn't known Cloud for more than a year at the most. I was only seventeen, I had every right to break down.

The third time, well, it's not a clear memory for me of when the third time was so I'll tell you about the next powerful memory I have of it. It was summer and my fingers were sticky with roasted marshmallows and chocolate. He laughed at the graham crackers and white goop on my lips and when I looked at him that goofy smirk he wore was the end of it. I was so riled up all of a sudden, with a glare in place before he could say anything else. He didn't_ say_ anything else though and maybe that was the problem. He kissed me, right in front of Kairi and Sora who were snuggling on the other side of the campfire. I was eighteen and my best friend kissed me on the lips for the first time. Sora teased me for weeks.

There have been too many times since then that all I can see is red. All I want to see… is that beautiful color sometimes. He makes it so worth the while. I sigh and tilt my head backwards as the phone rings beside my bed. He groans from beside me and rolls over a little, stealing the color from my vision.

"Roxy, you gonna get that?" He asks with sleep thick in his voice. I smile at him and take in his appearance. His eyes have liner smudged at the corners, his downward tears have pink lines over them from the cloth on my pillows that he had been using. His lips are pale and dry looking but curled into an alluring half smile anyways. I shake my head and run my fingers through his crimson hair. It's soft, lacking the usual styling products and it smells like shampoo.

"Who needs my attention more?" I half whisper with a weak voice from disuse. His large eyes crinkle at the corners and he places his lips upon mine.

"Morning breath." He apologizes with a nuzzle of his nose. The red strands all over my cheeks tickle.

"It means you stayed the night." I reply while pulling myself to him in attempt to see the world through his cherry red hair once more. It's where I feel the safest, pulled into his fiery locks and nuzzled into his neck. He rests a hand on my hip and supports his head with his other arm. I don't want to leave my red world. "I love you Axel." I whisper to the man and his pleased chuckle is the definition of delight as it brushes through my flaxen hair.


End file.
